


Great Minds (Think Alike)

by SapphyreLily



Series: Different Sun, Same Land [7]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, some mention of body dysphoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23528638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: Aoi has a terrible, terrible idea, but Raimundo gets more than just trouble out of it.[Alternatively: How Aoi Made Raimundo Marry Her Without Even Proposing]
Relationships: Raimundo Kameron/Aoi Munashi
Series: Different Sun, Same Land [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1001394
Kudos: 2





	Great Minds (Think Alike)

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a [prompt](https://twitter.com/NinjaMikkii/status/1171571151979470849) that my friend gave me :3 And a terrible discussion I had with another friend, where we discussed the _scandal_ of using vegetables as wedding decorations.

The faint whirring catches his attention first, even before the arms wrap around his waist. He can feel the hard, uneven ridges through his clothes; a familiar touch, and a welcome one.

“Aoi,” Raimundo starts, not looking up from the vegetables he is chopping, “Does your gyro _need_ to follow you around? Everywhere?”

The arms release their hold, and he hears a huff. “It’s cute!”

“Only you think so,” he comments drily.

“If you had a better appreciation for mechanical things–”

“I have plenty of appreciation for mechanical things,” he counters, setting the carrots aside and picking up the potatoes, “As long as they’re far away from me.”

“Bah.” She grumbles, leaning around him to watch the potatoes turn into cubes. “You’re no fun. It’s _cute._ ”

“Mechanica are not cute. Living things are cute.”

“For example?”

“You.”

Aoi scoffs. “Flattering, but I’m not cute.”

“Says the tiny sylvari who tinkers with metal and clockwork and adores cats.” Raimundo glances at her, a faint grin on his face.

Aoi frowns at him, but he can tell her heart’s not in it. “I’m half Mordrem. I can’t be cute.”

“Your scars endear you to me.” He leans over and kisses her forehead. “I don’t know what you looked like before, so I can’t judge. You’re cute now.”

As he pulls back, he sees the smile she’s failed to hide. He grins. “Could you get me some broccoli from the cool box?”

Aoi nods and leaves to retrieve the ingredient, taking the whirring gyro with her. Raimundo's smile doesn’t fade. Mordrem or no, Aoi has proved herself to be a staunch friend and partner. He has few enough of those.

“Hey, Rai.”

Raimundo looks down, surprised that she’d returned so quickly. He chokes when he only sees her eyes, the rest of her face hidden by the large head of broccoli. It does not help that her leaves are the same shade of green as the vegetable.

Aoi lowers the broccoli, giggling. “I didn’t realise they grew to be this big!”

“I didn’t realise your face was so small.”

The sylvari laughs, swatting at him with the vegetable. “Small now, you mean.”

“Well, of course.”

“Anyway,” she continues, “Look at this! The stem is so long!” She holds the stem of the broccoli with both hands and bats her eyes at him. Raimundo can’t help but laugh.

“What are you doing?”

“Doesn’t it look like a bouquet of flowers?” She holds the broccoli to her chest, head tilted to the side, smiling coyly. Then a big grin splits her face. “I mean, these _are_ florets. Wouldn’t it be interesting to use broccoli as flowers instead of actual flower bouquets? You’d save _so_ much money at weddings!”

Raimundo laughs. “You’d also scandalise everyone.”

“But it’s great! And economical! And _tasty_!” Aoi waves the broccoli in his face, her gestures animated. “Think about it, you could use cauliflower and red lettuce and other coloured foods as decorations! And _then_ use them to cook afterwards! Nothing wasted!”

Raimundo nods, humouring her. “And you would hit someone very hard when you toss the bouquet.”

“Bonuses.” Aoi grins. “All the bridesmaids can hit someone hard if they get harassed. And the bouquet won’t even be ruined!”

It’s so absurd that Raimundo has to smile. “Is this hitting hard thing about hammers again?”

“Stop judging me, they’re versatile.” Aoi swipes at him with the broccoli. When Raimundo clutches at his arm and moans, she chirps, “See? Very effective.”

“You are absolutely ridiculous,” he tells her.

“And you love me anyway.”

“Yes, what a poor life choice.”

“I love you too.” Aoi tugs on his arm, pulling him down to peck his cheek. Then she places the broccoli on the table, bouncing up and down and clapping her hands, expression excited. “I've got an idea!”

“Oh no.”

“Want to see how much trouble I can get us into?”

“We’re going to die, aren’t we.”

“Hey! I can control myself. It’s only mid-week!”

“No, you certainly cannot.”

Aoi sticks her tongue out at him. “You’ll love it, I promise. Be back soon!”

“Be back for dinner,” he calls. The front door shuts with a _click_ , and Raimundo shakes his head.

Silly, adorable sylvari. Using vegetables as wedding decorations? She’d scandalise the gods themselves.

\-----

“What’s all this about?” Raimundo tugs on the cuffs of the very fancy suit, admiring its quality. “And why are we here?”

“Patience. You humans jabber too much.” The asura pulls on his coattails, walking around him to scrutinize his outfit. “Hmm. It’ll do. Bit of a rushed job, but it can’t be helped.”

“Ricotta. What. Is. This. About.”

“Typical. The sylvari didn’t tell you? Then I shall refrain. You’ll find out in, oh, what’s the time, Hyou?”

“Time to go,” Hyousetsu replies, her ears twitching. A second later, a knock sounds at the door.

“Ladies. I refuse to go anywhere if you do not tell me what is _going on_.”

“You are not getting kidnapped, if that is what you are worried about.” Hyousetsu opens the door, stepping aside for the person behind it. “It’s a small gathering of friends.”

“Not being kidnapped _again_ , you mean,” Raimundo mutters. Louder, he says, “Then why do I have to dress up? It’s just friends.”

“Trust me when I say you’ll want to look your best,” says the sylvari who steps in. He raises his eyebrows at Raimundo’s appearance, whistling. “Well. He cleans up exceptionally well. Thank you, Ricotta.”

“You're welcome. Hyou and I will be there in a minute. We have to change.”

“Take a circuitous route,” Hyousetsu says. “So we can arrive before you.”

“Very well. Raimundo, please come with me. I will explain.”

Raimundo grumbles but follows him. He trusts Starmist to be straightforward, if no one else will be. “I am going to give a piece of my mind to the mastermind of this secrecy.”

As the door shuts behind him, he hears Hyousetsu snort, “No, you won’t.”

Starmist gestures to the empty hallway, leading the way. “So you've been told nothing at all?”

“No. I was assaulted by those two this morning, and ferried away from my own home. I don’t even know where I am.”

Starmist laughs. “Ah, they were right. This is so typical. Right. We're somewhere in Hoelbrak. A small room has been rented for our party's use, and there will be food and drink available. The rest, I am not allowed to tell you.”

Raimundo sighs. “This is such a dreary day.”

“It will turn for the better. I promise.”

“How can you know that?”

“Well,” Starmist says, “How well do you know Aoi?”

Raimundo trips, but catches himself in time. A memory rises unbidden to the front of his mind.

_“Want to see how much trouble I can get us into?”_

He sighs _. It’s only the end of the week, what has she done now?_

“What has she done now?” He says aloud.

“Nothing you wouldn’t approve of,” Starmist grins slightly. “If it eases your mind, there will be less than ten people present.”

“Ah.” That does ease his mind a little. “Fine. Are they all people I know?”

“I think so, yes.”

They finally stop before a door that looks exactly the same as the rest in the hallway. Raimundo thinks he can hear light music floating out from behind it. Starmist turns to him and taps his cheek. “Smile a little. Or don’t scowl, least.”

“I am not scowling.”

Starmist simply raises an eyebrow and opens the door.

He is right. It is a small gathering, about ten people in total, including musicians. The room is lit with soft lanterns, the fire in the hearth infusing the room with heat. Flowers and bright decorations adorn the tables and chairs, and at the far end of the room, a large norn and a pair of tiny sylvari wait.

His eyes snap back to one of the decorations on the table. _Wait a minute. Is that–?_

Starmist squeezes his elbow, and Raimundo steps forward, forcing his mind blank. His eyes scan over the people in the room, praying for no more surprises. He is pleasantly surprised that he does recognise those present.

Hyousetsu and Ricotta stand beside one of the tables, now dressed in fancy suits. Jahala stands beside the fire, hands behind her back. Vance and Vahland, Starmist’s friends, play the lute and harp together, the melody soothing.

Raimundo barely feels his feet move; he’s certain he’s not smiling like Starmist told him to, but he can’t control his facial expression, not anymore.

He recognises the people standing at the end of the far end of the room. He recognises – or thinks he does – the _type_ of decorations around the room.

Now it’s more of an effort to keep his face frozen, rather than allow the smile to slip out.

_She actually did it. The madwoman._

_May the Six forgive me for participating in this scandal._

Raimundo tries his hardest not to think about it. He focuses all his attention on the taller of the two sylvari ladies, because he can actually trust _her_ to be stoic and calm. He refuses to look at Aoi for the moment – he cannot afford to laugh, not right now. Not if he guessed the occasion right.

Gods, he _was_ participating in a scandal. He was walking to his bride, not the other way around.

They reach the end of the room. Starmist steps to one side, as does Murasaki, allowing the two to meet. Raimundo glances at the norn – he doesn’t quite know _him_ – before extending his hand to Aoi. She places her hand in his, the rough bark poking his skin, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her dress is beautiful, fashioned in the style of the sylvari. A pale, smooth material – which may or may not be one of the Pale Tree's leaves – edged with thin branches and flower buds. A simple diadem of the same branches and buds rests on her head.

She is elegant and beautiful, utterly resplendent.

If only he could say the same about the odd bouquet she was carrying.

Raimundo refuses to look at it further, or he will never stop staring. He is certain that he can keep his cool for another five minutes. He has to.

“Friends!” The norn’s voice booms out, and the instruments quiet. “Esteemed guests! Thank you for coming today, to witness the joining of lives, to acknowledge the pact sworn by hunters willing to share hearths.

“We are called here today to witness and bind these lives together, to lend our ears and eyes to the oaths to be sworn. Let it be said now, that Aoi, daughter of the Pale Tree, wishes to offer her hearth to Raimundo, son of none. Not just her hearth, but also her hunts, and a steadfast rock to rest against in leaner times.”

The shaman takes a length of thin cloth from the table beside him, draping it over their clasped hands. He wraps it around their wrists, tying it securely, then steps back, his voice booming.

“Speak your oath, daughter.”

Aoi's eyes are clear and sharp as she gazes at Raimundo. Despite the half-joking nature of the entire set up, he can feel that this part is very real and means a lot to her. When she speaks, her voice is strong, ringing with conviction.

“Raimundo, I offer you my hammer and my shield. I offer my home, wherever it may be, as a haven and a place to rest your head. I swear to shield you where you need shielding, to strike your enemy before they can take your head. I swear to provide whatever you may require, if it is within my capabilities. May the dragons take me before I turn my back on you.”

Simply worded, but it is the depth of her emotion that moves him. That makes colour rise in his cheeks. Raimundo didn’t know that she cared that much. That she loved him enough to take on the world for him, if it came to it. What had he done to deserve her devotion?

“What say you, son?”

Raimundo internally thanks the norn shaman – he has to be a shaman, to be presiding over them like this – for not reiterating that he has no parents.

“Aoi, I offer you my blade and my rifle, my pot and my fire. Wherever you go, I will follow, and your enemies will never reach you. No matter the location nor situation, I will always have a warm meal for you, and you will feast like the gods themselves. I will carry you where you can walk no more, and I will be the sapling that holds you upright. I swear your needs and wants will be fulfilled as best I can, before my own. May Kormir take my tongue if I dare speak falsely.”

“So they have sworn, and so shall it be,” the shaman intones.

“So shall it be!” The rest of the room echoes. There is a pause before the cheers burst out, cries of delight and congratulations. The shaman bends over their hands again to untie the cloth, and Raimundo looks Aoi in the eye, ignoring the jubilation around him.

Then his gaze drops to her unlikely bouquet, and he lets out the groan he has been containing.

Aoi bursts into giggles and jabs him in the chest with the broccoli.

“Aoi,” Raimundo groans. “Aoi, Aoi, _Aoi_. You had to. Of all the serious ceremonies that you could have set up, _this_ is the one that you choose to put a joke on?!”

“Told you I’d get us into trouble, didn’t I?” She giggles again, leaning in to peck him on the cheek. “I’m impressed you kept your head that long!”

“I’m– I just– Ugh!”

Aoi pats his cheek with the broccoli. “Come look at the rest of my decorations.”

“I hate you.”

“You just married me,” Aoi reminds, as Murasaki peeps over her shoulder. “You can't hate me that much.”

“She’s right,” Murasaki pipes up. She holds a head of cauliflower, and Raimundo gives her a withering glare which she ignores. “That was _adorable_ , by the way. You’ve proven yourself a romantic sap, Rai!”

“I hate you too,” Raimundo says. “You of all people have more sense than this.”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” The Commander smiles. “I love a good romance as much as anyone else!”

“More than anyone else.” Aoi leans back and slips an arm around Murasaki's waist for a quick hug. “Now let’s show Rai our handiwork.”

The human groans. “Sylvari.”

“Enjoy the décor,” Starmist says. He taps his breast pocket and winks. Raimundo suddenly realises that it’s not a flower sprig in his pocket, it’s cabbage leaves folded into petals.

He’s mildly mortified that he hadn’t noticed earlier.

Murasaki and Aoi drag him around the room, proudly showing off their vegetable displays. The mix of cabbage, lettuce, cauliflower and various other vegetables is surprisingly artistic. There’s even a passiflora flower or two amongst them, which are the only 'real' flowers, as far as Raimundo is concerned.

He spots the pineapple, the thing that first alerted him to this craziness. Surrounding it is a carefully spiralling tower of bell peppers and cucumbers. The other tables have similar displays consisting of different fruits and vegetables. Some red onions have made their way in as well, and he has to admit that _maybe_ fruits and vegetables make good decorations.

“How much of this is an illusion?” He asks Murasaki. “They looked like real bouquets when I first walked in.”

“None,” Aoi sings. “These are all arranged by hand.”

“Just a trick of the eye,” Murasaki says. “No need for illusions when Aoi knows how to arrange so well.”

This is true, Raimundo admits.

He doesn’t get to complain further, not when the guests start coming up to them with grins and congratulations.

(He says 'them', but when he looks around for Aoi a second later, she has disappeared.)

(Raimundo sighs internally. Typical, for her to run off and leave him to face the social aspect of things alone.)

It does not surprise him that Ricotta and Hyousetsu are first in line. The asura's smirk is condemning. “Are you satisfied now that I dressed you well for this occasion?”

Raimundo gives her a deadpan stare. “You’re right, ‘satisfied’ is the correct word. I still dislike how manhandled I was.”

“Bah. Always so unappreciative, bookah.”

Hyousetsu covers her mate's mouth with a roll of her eyes. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Ricotta pries the paw off her mouth, swatting Hyousetsu's tail as she storms off. The charr shakes her head and extends her paw, her claws gently encircling Raimundo’s wrist when he takes it.

“Many happy wishes to you and Aoi. I hope your relationship will remain steadfast.”

“Your wishes are well received,” he replies. “Have you and Cheese been well?”

“As well as we can be,” she snorts. “I don’t know if the charr or the asura disapprove more of our relationship.”

“They will always judge.”

“Always,” Hyousetsu agrees. “But trust in each other, and you’ll be fine. It’s when their words get to you that’s the most dangerous.”

“Don’t I know that,” he says drily.

Hyousetsu smiles faintly and claps him on the shoulder, leaving to join her mate.

Jahala steps up to him next, her hand warm as she grasps his forearm. “Well met, Raimundo. Congratulations.”

“Well met, Jahala. Thank you. How are you?”

“Surviving.” She shrugs. “It’s good to be back in Hoelbrak. Never again will I enter the Heart of Maguuma, if I have to face another pocket raptor.”

Raimundo barks out a laugh. “Aye. I understand _completely._ ”

“Nasty little creatures,” she mutters. “They don’t even burn right.”

“I’m sure that’s just the humidity of the jungle.”

“Bah. The jungle is terrible, no matter what excuses you put upon it.”

“I cannot disagree.” Raimundo recalls the one or two times he’s followed Aoi in there to visit Aurene. “Leeches. Foul things.”

“Do not remind me,” Jahala mutters. “I would set the jungle on fire to purge the world of them.”

“How about not returning there at all?”

“That would only be too easy.” The norn glances behind her, to the others hovering about, waiting to congratulate him. “I shall take my leave. We must catch up a little more later today.”

“That we must.” He grasps her forearm again, and she strides off.

Vance and Vahland catch him next, even as he tries to find a glass of water. A quick glance around tells him that Starmist and Murasaki have taken up the instruments instead. Their music is simple, though he still catches the odd note that is horribly off-key.

Vahland catches his line of sight and gives a hearty laugh. “Better to have poor musicians than to have the music stop altogether, I think!”

“You might have a point,” Raimundo says. “Sets the atmosphere, or something like that.”

“Indeed.” Vance speaks, a lazy smile rising to his lips. “Though I believe the idea was also to see which of them plays worse.”

“They’ll make the decorations wilt,” Vahland confides excitedly. “I’ve seen it happen to regular flowers, I’m curious about vegetables.”

Raimundo chuckles. They certainly were an interesting pair. “Surely their playing isn’t so bad?”

“You have not heard.” Vance raises his eyebrows. “Count yourself lucky.”

 _I always forget how much I like their humour._ _Beautifully harsh._

“Speaking of lucky,” Vahland interrupts, elbowing his partner, “Congratulations! Many happy wishes to you and Aoi.”

Vance nods. “It’s always nice to see others find love.”

“You don’t have to sound so inflectionless as you say that,” Raimundo says, a smile on his face.

Vance shrugs, a hint of a smile rising on his lips. “It’s just how I am. Congratulations, regardless. Now we must find Aoi, and warn her of her decorations' plight.”

Raimundo laughs. “Go ahead. I would like to know where she’s disappeared to, myself.”

They leave, and Raimundo finally gets to snag a glass and drink his water.

Time drags on as the food is passed out, and people drag him into longer and longer conversations that leave him no room to eat. It is pleasant, at first – he has not spoken to many of his friends in a long time, and it is good to catch up. But as he is passed from person to person, as conversations ebb and start up again with no reprieve, he only keeps tolerating it because the food – that he finally gets a chance to taste – is delicious.

There comes a point when he excuses himself – a little tersely, but he cannot bring himself to care. He stands by the fire, if only to escape talking for a bit. He wishes he could cloak himself and sneak out, but it’s neither polite nor proper. And it’d be rude to his wife, whom he spots mingling with the guests – she looks animated, and that is good enough for him.

The norn shaman wanders over after a few minutes and hands him a drink, patting him on the back. “Drink. Calm your mind, for they can entertain themselves.”

Raimundo glances at him and leans against the fireplace. “I’m sure they can.”

“Indeed they will. Breathe deep, Raimundo. Let your gods calm you, and refresh yourself in your solitude.”

Raimundo smiles. There are few kinds of people who understand that he needs some peace and quiet. “We have not met properly.”

“No,” the shaman says thoughtfully. “I am Quil Stefensson. I speak for Snow Leopard, and she teaches me to listen before I leap.”

Someone who listens. He likes the norn better already.

“I am Raimundo. But you knew that. Well met, Quil.”

“Well met.” The norn sips from his tankard. “Would you mind the extra company, or shall I keep them occupied for a while longer?”

Raimundo follows his gaze to the rest of their party, laughing and talking, some of them cheerfully spinning around in dance. He thinks about it.

“I don’t mind your company. Do not expect me to answer too often, if you do speak to me, though.”

“Your head is heavy. Shall I tell you a tale? You need not reply, I shall speak anyway.”

Quil spins him a saga of the Spirits of the Wild, his voice soothing. It washes him away in its telling, gently painting a picture in his mind. He is almost sad when the telling is over.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome. Come, eat more. Have some sustenance before we pass out the remainders to the people of Hoelbrak. They do not receive fresh vegetables often, and it will be a delight and a balm to them.”

Raimundo almost smiles. “I’m coming.”

\-----

It’s a lot later, when they’re finally back in Divinity’s Reach, that Murasaki presents them with her gifts. A gold ring for each of them, enchanted with mesmer illusions.

“I've heard that some cultures exchange rings to symbolise the couple's commitment to each other. Take these. Don’t exchange them, because the illusion is specifically tailored for each of you.”

She doesn’t stay to receive their thanks – Taimi was expecting her, and she had to leave immediately. Regardless, her gifts are well appreciated.

“What does yours do?” Aoi asks. She had put her ring on, and now her hands are smooth like a regular sylvari's, and her extra eyes are gone. It is a little disconcerting, but Raimundo knows that she appreciates it. She can walk amongst regular sylvari – amongst all the races – and not be ostracised, now.

Raimundo takes one of her hands and puts it against his chest – his _flat_ chest – running it down and towards his hip. Aoi's eyes widen, and then both her hands are on him, patting down his entire torso, tugging at the waistline of his looser pants.

“Oh, sweet silence. She did it.” Aoi's voice is hushed. She looks up at Raimundo, her one set of eyes shining. “She did it. How do you feel?”

“Not squishy.” Raimundo grins, and it’s real. The first real smile since the festivities had worn him down, a giddy warmth that makes him feel like screaming his delight. “I finally feel comfortable in this body. It feels like it’s _mine._ ”

Aoi squeals and throws her arms around his neck. He can’t help but hug her back, and the way the hardness of her body does not sink and press into him in certain places only makes his smile wider.

Everything about the day has been good and terrible, but this gift – this beautiful, mesmeric gift – was the best thing to end it with.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for enabling me Mika >:3 And thank you Deanna, for allowing me to even _suggest_ using vegetables at your wedding and scandalising everyone especially your mother >D
> 
> Also if it isn't obvious by now that I take _great_ liberties with mesmer magic, I don't know what to say. If only this magic existed irl so all the trans people can have the bodies they want with no surgery involved!


End file.
